All Work and Twin Dismay Makes Oliver a Dull Boy
by Le Me
Summary: It's one week until the final match of Slytherin vs. Gryffindor and Wood's last ever game, but something's up with the twins and it's interfering with training. Drama naturally ensues when the Captain tries to restore some order to his unruly Beaters.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from one Quidditch move 'The Unbreakable Bow'.

A/N: **No slash, no pairings**, all names and places are canon. **Reviewing is greatly appreciated, even if it's only a few words.**

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><p>It was the last week in April, Spring was in full swing and the grounds of Hogwarts were in bloom. The warm, dipping sun was shining out though the wispy clouds melting the last of the Winter frost, birds chirped pleasantly in the bushy trees and the green grass positively beamed as it enclosed patches of sweet smelling flowers. Now that the days were getting longer and warmer after the cold, the spirits of student and teacher were beginning to rise once more. All were spritely and happy, all except one.<p>

"Katie! Will you look where you're GOING! You almost knocked Alicia off her broom! HARRY! You've been looking for the Snitch for about half an hour now! Will. You. Concentrate! FRED, GEORGE!" The voice positively erupted in volume when it came to a certain pair of twins.

Fred and George Weasley stopped duelling with their Beater's bats and looked towards the goal hoops sheepishly. All eyes were on them.

"Uhh, we were jus-"

"You two. Here. NOW," bellowed the Keeper, silencing George's pleas. They leaned forward and urged their Cleansweeps across the pitch to come to rest in front of the seething face of the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood.

"This is the THIRD time today I've seen you two fooling around when you're supposed to be practising the technique we discussed! And you were distracted at our last two practises too! Or does it no longer matter to you two that we have a match against Slytherin in one week," the Keeper fumed, hands on his hips and eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course it matters," reassured Fred.

"It couldn't matter more!" exclaimed George. "Which is why we've been practising bat to bat combat!"

"You know what the Slytherin Beaters-"

"-Derrick and Bole are like!"

"-They're sneaky, like to fly past-"

"-with their bats outstretched-"

"-and make it seem like they've accidentally-"

"-whacked you one!"

"This practice is crucial for our own safety," they finished in unison.

Oliver simply stared at them through half lidded eyes, before massaging his temples and counting to ten.

"Bat to bat combat," he repeated slowly in affirmation, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. They nodded eagerly, red hair bouncing. Oliver paused for a moment in thought and hazarded a glance around at the rest of his team. The players, who had originally been listening to the exchange between the Captain and Beaters, had now grouped together and were talking amongst themselves in jovial tones. The large Quaffle was being spun on the end of Alicia's finger as Angelina seemed to be divulging a story to them complete with animated hand movements; the Golden Snitch and Bludgers raced around the pitch forgotten. Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator and hard-core Gryffindor fan, was in the side-lines watching them practise as he usually did, giving Oliver the thumbs up when he spotted him looking. Fred and George had gone back to duelling. He sighed in defeat.

"Right that's it," he said in a culminating tone, "EVERYONE ON THE GROUND."

He dived and touched down onto the soft grass with a thump, soon followed by the team; they waited expectantly for him to speak or rather erupt as was the most likely outcome.

"What is _wrong _with all of you? I've never seen you all so distracted and unfocussed before, especially _you two,_" he looked pointedly at the twins, who averted his gaze. "We've got seven practise sessions left including this one until the match. Seven. I've seen the Slytherins practise and they're good this year, better than last, which means we have to up our game if we're going to beat them. WHY am I the only person on this team who seems to be taking this _seriously_?"

"We _are _ taking this seriously Wood," sighed Angelina. "But I think I speak for everyone when I say that since these practise sessions have gotten later and later in the day, it's getting harder to care about practising when all I can think about is dinner."

A loud grumbling coming from the twins caught everyone's attention as they put their hands over their stomachs. "Seconded-"

"-and thirded."

The chaser raised an eyebrow at them.

"Well you did say dinner," they said in a 'Wasn't it obvious?' sort of tone.

"She's right Oliver," said Harry meekly. "It's almost getting to the point where I groan at the concept of a gruelling practise session after a long day."

"We're in the holidays now so I guess it won't be like that anymore, but still I'd rather be inside," agreed Katie. Alicia nodded also.

The Captain considered this new piece of information for a second. It had never occurred to him that concentration levels would wane as the day went on, _he _was always on the ball at all times of the day when it came to Quidditch. But they weren't him and he could see that this was something he had to nip in the bud if they had any chance of beating the Slytherins; perhaps he could remedy this with a little bit of slot shuffling…

"Alright you lot, I can see this is a mutual problem. I'll see if I can get us some different slots tomorrow. There's no point continuing here you're all too distracted, we might as well call it quits for tonight," stated Wood. "…Think you three can wrangle the balls in?" he added turning to the boys, ignoring the 'That's what _she said!_' coming from the side-lines.

The twins stood up straight and came to salute. "YES SIR CAPTAIN SIR!" And they shot into the air after the pair of bewitched nuisances.

Harry also sped upwards and went after the tiny Golden Snitch. It took a while before he found it lurking next to the goal hoops but it was soon caught. The twins were already on the ground when he got there each wrestling a Bludger like their lives depended on it, it seemed that the promise of dinner had incurred some action from them at last. Soon, they too were imprisoned in the case once more and the group, joining with Lee, finally left for the changing rooms.

* * *

><p>The sun was now almost set, and Harry and Ron had just left dinner and were walking up Gryffindor tower, every once in a while crossing the orange patches of sunlight that was let in by the narrow windows. Hermione had gone straight to the library after the meal to 'Get an early start on her essays' even though they weren't due in for another week. Harry and Ron didn't understand her one bit.<p>

"I hope Wood manages to change the times for practise," began Harry. "It's the Easter holidays now so I hope he at least gives us a lie in as well."

"You know Wood, he probably missed the meal so he could go straight to Hooch and study the time chart," said Ron with a smirk. "Basic human needs like food and sleep mean nothing to that bloke when it comes to Quidditch."

Harry sniggered in agreement as they climbed the final staircase and approached the portrait of The Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked.

"Codswallop," said Harry, and the portrait swung open just in time for he and Ron to be hit with what can only be described as a wall of sound.

"EIGHT O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING! IS HE OUT OF HIS _TINY_ MIND?" came the unmistakable bellow of Fred or George.

Harry and Ron, after jumping so much in fright and nearly falling over the banister, quickly moved into the common room to find the Gryffindor Quidditch team huddled around the message board, where it seemed that Wood had pinned the new timetable. Ron had been right.

"Merlin's beard Fred, you nearly made us fall off the bloody staircase!" hollered Ron, clutching his chest and answering Harry's unspoken question.

It was George who turned to Harry though, completely ignoring his hyperventilating brother. "Eight o'clock. He's got us up at the sodding arse crack of dawn! In the holidays too!"

"I'm gona kill him!" continued Fred, now walking away from the group and ignoring the stares of some random third years huddled in the corner. "If George and I are up past midnight in the kitchens getting snacks and _he's_ got us up at sunrise, how am I supposed to get my beauty sleep NOW?" he huffed, throwing himself into one of the armchairs and crossing his arms in a sulk.

"Don't worry Freddie I'm pretty enough for the both of us," George threw over his shoulder as he too claimed one.

The Chasers rolled their eyes. Harry was just about to comment that he could do with a few more hours every once and while, when the portrait swung open once more to reveal the Scotsman himself.

Wood moved into the room and paused. He took in the trio of Chasers tsking away to themselves, the glaring expression of Harry and the murderous faces of Fred and George directed at him. He blanched and addressed them.

"I see you've all seen the new timetable," he said brightly.

Their expressions didn't falter.

"Look, it was either that or we went back to the times we had. The Slytherins have the pitch booked every day for the final week from 1pm 'til 5pm, I couldn't change Flint's mind," he stated. "But I think an early start is better than a late one even if it _is_ everyday-"

Fred opened his mouth.

"-and there'll be NO arguments," finished Wood.

Fred closed it again.

"I suppose it'll get it out of the way," said Alicia in an apparent change of heart.

"True," said Katie, "and it'll wake us up I guess."

"I'm actually a morning person," came the resolute voice of Angelina. "I don't have a problem at all."

The twins forgot to feel angry for a moment and simply turned to stare at her in disbelief, as did the eavesdropping third years, eyebrows almost vanishing into their fringes.

"Good," said Wood, "glad that's settled. See you _all_ bright and early tomorrow." He made a show of looking at his Beaters, who simply grumbled, and with that he started up the staircase to the seventh year dorms. He was sure his team would be on the ball this time, and if not he'd figure out something; he was going to win the cup this year even if he had to _Imperio_ the lot of them.

Harry sighed in defeat and slumped onto the settée, he conceded it was probably better than the late shift, and like the girls said it'd be over and done with before long. The Chasers had also decided to depart up to their dorms, leaving Fred and George, the third years, Harry and Ron, who upon hearing all this was currently sporting a look of triumph.

"Unlucky, chaps," he said in mock sadness moving around behind the seating area. "I feel for you I really do, and I Just want you to know that I'll be thinking of each and every one of you when you're out there battling against the elements in the freezing cold and rain, when I'm tucked up all cosy and warm in my nice, soft be-WOAH!" he yelled as he narrowly avoided a flying copy of '_Quidditch Through the Ages' _which smacked against the far wall.

"That nearly blinded me!" Ron cried indignantly, pointing an accusing finger at his brothers.

Fred simply leered. "_Butterfingers_."

* * *

><p>8am had finally arrived and the Gryffindor team were making their way onto the cool, dewy pitch which sparkled in the early morning light. Wood and Harry heaved the case of equipment all the way from its home in Madam Hooch's office onto the solid ground, before opening it and releasing the Bludgers and Snitch.<p>

"Right," the Keeper began, his breath coming out in white billowing puffs, "we'll carry on from where we left off yesterday. Angelina, Katie and Alicia you're to take it in turns to split into a two and a one, the one of you will start with the Quaffle and attempt to score through my goal hoops whilst the other two try and get possession. Harry you're to practise _tailing _the Snitch, it's vital that you wait until we're sixty points up, that's the only way we'll stand a chance of winning the cup, due to Slytherin's lead in the championship."

The girls and Harry took off.

"As for you two," he eyed the twins, "I don't want to see anymore duelling, racing, surfing, loop-de-looping-"

"-We GET it," they proclaimed.

"And remember you're to practise that tactic we talked about 'The Bludger Backbeat'; the Slytherins play dirty, they like to come at people from behind, so I think it's a good skill to acquire. I'd get you to do 'The Dopplebeater Defence' as well but you two mastered it on your first ever game against Ravenclaw," Wood added, smiling warmly at the memory of how proud he'd been when he'd witnessed it.

'The Dopplebeater Defence' or Doublebeater Defence was a move in which the two Beaters struck a Bludger at exactly the same time, making it twice as dangerous if it made contact with a player. The twins had used this move on Roger Davies when he had gotten possession of the Quaffle by barrelling straight into Angelina, nearly knocking her off her broom. Wood'd been ready to call foul when a Bludger travelling much faster than it should've been came out of nowhere and collided with Davies' broom. It had splintered the tail making him spin out of control and drop the ball straight into Alicia's hands, who immediately scored the remaining ten points they needed to allow their Seeker to catch the Snitch. When Wood had looked up, Fred and George were still in the stance with their bats yet to be retracted between them, breathing heavily and looking quite pleased with themselves.

'The Bludger Backbeat' was a little more complicated, it involved a Beater hitting a Bludger with a back-swing so that it was knocked straight behind them. The move is hard to pull off with precision, but can successfully cause a few moments of bewilderment to a tailing rival if done correctly; against Slytherin they needed all the elements of surprise they could get.

"Right, off you go then."

And they too sped off.

Wood was pleased. Practise was going much better than it had last night. His Chasers had not only executed some brilliant moves but managed to catch him off guard on a number of occasions and make some cheeky scores which he was sure he was never going to live down.

Harry had also improved dramatically, he'd spotted the Snitch within five minutes this time and tailed it, just as asked, not letting it out of his sight even when a Bludger came hurtling towards him; performing a 'Sloth Grip Roll' to avoid it, he jumped back on his broom and continued on, listening intently to the score made by Oliver, as Lee had obviously chosen sleep as a higher priority.

With Fred and George, there seemed to be a slight issue. They'd started off very strong, even pulling off a move known as 'The Unbreakable Bow' where the two Beaters clasp each other by the forearms, and one spinning around on the spot hurls the other around like a lasso before letting go. The flung Beater 'bows' down onto their broom reducing air resistance and rises up at the last minute whacking the Bludger full pelt and propelling it through the air with astonishing speed. He'd almost let Katie score he was watching so intently.

But now two hours in, and they were waning. Their attempts at 'The Bludger Backbeat' were sloppy, and he'd also noticed them beginning to mess around again when they thought he wasn't looking, antagonising the Bludgers and dancing at them. He took this as a cue to call break time.

"Alright everyone time-out!" he declared, swooping down to the ground. "Did you all remember to bring some food?"

"Yep, Fred and George got the house elves to pack us all lunches last night," said Harry, with a mouth already full of chicken sandwich regardless of the fact that it was only ten o'clock in the morning. "They even made you one," he said handing a brown paper bag bulging with snacks over to the Scot.

"Ah, brilliant," said Wood, accepting the extra food, and sitting down with the others to eat.

He had put aside an hour for them to eat, meaning that they had sufficient time to digest before getting back up in the air. There was nothing worse than flying on a full stomach, he'd seen the results plenty of times. He looked over at the twins whilst the others spoke amongst themselves.

"Don't think I didn't notice you messing around again," he frowned. "I'm assuming you just needed a break, so I hope to see some improvement when we start the second half."

"Oh honestly Oliver you're like our bloody mother sometimes," said George irritably. "_'Don't do this, don't do that'_. Will you give it a rest."

"And for your information, we _weren't _messing around," Fred continued hotly.

Oliver's brow furrowed. "Cussing out the Bludgers and egging them on looked like messing about to me," he retaliated sternly.

Fred let out a yawn, and George countered him as if talking to a three year old. "We were purposely annoying the Bludgers so they'd come straight at us faster than usual so we could react in real-time." Due to the contagious nature of yawning, he let one out himself.

"You get on our case for 'messing about' when I think you'd best concentrate on your own duty, AKA _defending _the hoops from the Quaffle and not helping it through," said Fred cockily, munching on an apple.

Oliver bristled. He was about to give the sassy Beaters a piece of his mind but Angelina beat him to the punch. "Well, well, well, we're crankypants's this morning aren't we? Any particular reason you're both biting his head off? Or is it simply a case of the infamous redhead temper finding an outlet?"

The twins glared. "We're _not_ cranky," Fred said defensively.

"We're simply making a point," George finished.

"Well if you're _done _making your point I'll make mine. As Captain it's my job to make sure you're doing what you're supposed to, training to the best of your ability and doing so in a safe manner. I criticise to make you improve, _not_ ruffle your feathers. All I ask in return is that you do as I advise…and giving a little respect in the process wouldn't hurt either," he scolded.

They said nothing but proceeded to make eye contact defiantly. Before long, however, they were stared down and began clearing up their scraps, muttering under their breath.

"Now," said Wood turning to the rest of the team, "time for a change in tactics, I believe."

The twins' mood didn't improve much over the course of the next two hours. This was evident in their overzealous deflection of Bludgers and their noticeable refusal to attempt anymore practise at 'The Bludger Backbeat'. Although they did manage another few successful 'Unbreakable Bows' which, Oliver conceded, he couldn't complain over.

The rest of the team had performed well over the course of the session as well, and eventually it was time to call it a day. As the things were packed away and they made their way into the changing rooms, he began to reminisce on the day's events. He was pleased how the slot had gone, but he couldn't help wonder what had caused the change in demeanour of the two sun shiniest people he knew. Out of the entire team it was the twins who he had to give attention to the most, usually in a negative manner. Maybe he _was_ getting on their case a bit…Nah, it was probably just as Angelina had said, how had she phrased it? 'Simply a case of the infamous redhead temper finding an outlet'. He was sure they'd perk up tomorrow, 'cause if not, the team was in trouble…

* * *

><p>During the next two sessions, things unfortunately went exactly the same as they had the first day. Oliver didn't understand. Fred and George would turn up as they had been doing, happy and keen, then once in the air would beat with gusto. But when break-time came around they would snap if they thought they were being told off or challenged. To make things more confusing, Harry informed Wood that they became their usual selves after lunchtime in the Great Hall: Annoyingly joyous and bouncy. It didn't add up.<p>

He knew something had to be done. He needed a professional opinion; someone whose word was law, someone who knew the minds of the Hogwarts students like no other, someone who would be able to solve this puzzle and put his mind at peace, someone who was something of an oracle.

"Lee, I wonder if you could help me out with something," said Oliver, looking across the Gryffindor table at the face of the Quidditch commentator.

Lee looked up from his plate at the sound of his name and beamed. "Hey Wood! Didn't hear ya sit down! Uh yeah sure, fire away!"

The Great Hall was packed as ever with students for the evening meal, but he saw no sign of the duo anywhere, so he continued.

"It's about Fred and George," he whispered anyway, "they've been acting really strange during practise and I'm kind of at a loss."

He ignored the 'Wouldn't be the first time…' and explained to Lee the way in which the pair's mood seemed to change dramatically at the same time every session, how they instantly came back to themselves shortly after noon and how it was usually him getting the brunt of their temper. When he had finished he sighed and took a swig of pumpkin juice, waiting for Lee's thoughts.

"Well Wood, you've definitely got a good one there that's for sure," he muttered, face scrunched up in thought, "I don't know."

"But, you know juicy secrets about _everybody, _this is your area of expertise! They're best friends with you too, you're practically their triplet!" said a stunned Oliver.

Lee raised an eyebrow at this and smirked but he soon began to shake his head after a few more moments thought. "It's no good Ol, it's a stumper," he sighed dejectedly.

Oliver was about to groan when a female voice piped up next to him. "Oh please, you two _honestly_ can't work it out?"

The two boys snapped their heads round to see the head of Hermione Granger suddenly materialize from behind a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Her face was dubious.

"And you can?" challenged Wood.

She had overheard the entire conversation before when Harry and Ron were discussing the same thing. She couldn't believe the Captain hadn't figured this one out yet, the sulkiness, temper and defiant moods, it was pretty plain if she thought about it.

"Of course I can. I figured it out yesterday. And don't get on my case for 'not telling you', I assumed you'd've solved it by now," she said snootily.

Oliver looked at her disdainfully, but she had piqued his interest; he exhaled audibly. "Go on."

"Well first, what you have to understand about Fred and George above all else, is this…" She paused for effect. "…They're basically a couple of overgrown kids."

"Well yes that much is obvious," said Wood, "I could've told you that within four seconds of meeting them."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I mean that, well let me put it like this. Picture the scene: two little boys of about two years old. They'd just eaten so they weren't hungry, they weren't in any discomfort, they had their favourite toy with them and were surrounded by their friends meaning that they couldn't possibly be bored. Yet roundabout noon they became sulky and defiant and said nasty things seemingly for no reason. What would you deduce to be wrong?"

Oliver and Lee blinked cluelessly.

She went on. "They're irritable because they aren't getting enough…?"

"That's what _she said!_"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, they're cranky because they aren't getting enough SLEEP," she said, rolling up her newspaper and walloping Lee hard over the skull with it.

"Sleep?" Oliver repeated, turning a blind eye to the whining boy opposite him.

She rolled her eyes. "Think about it, they're up 'til yon time exploring the school every night or raiding the kitchens and now you've got them up first thing in the morning. The reason they're back to their hyper selves after lunch has probably got something to do with all the sugar they ingest."

"But what about during normal lessons? Surely the same thing happens," Wood countered.

"Ah, well no," said Lee. "One of our morning periods always consists of either '_History of Magic'_ or _'Divination'_ and well, the way Binns and Trelawney drone on they might as well be singing the class a lullaby," he continued shrugging understandably. "No-one even bothers pretending to be awake."

Oliver paused, closed his eyes and relented with a whine. "If I think on it it's obvious. Why didn't I _see_ this?" he said, folding his arms and shaking his head.

"For you do not possess _The inner eye!_" warbled Lee in a decent impression of Sybill herself.

Hermione ignored him. "They aren't going to stop traipsing the castle at night for anybody either, so you only have one option if you want their full attention during practise from now on. Here's what I think you should do…"

He and Lee listened to her idea and the three friends chatted idly for a little while longer, but soon finished their meals and rose from the table.

"Thanks a bunch Granger, I owe you one," said Wood warmly.

"It's nothing. Just make sure to beat Slytherin and we're even," she threw over her shoulder as she meandered out of the hall.

Oliver chuckled softly. He went over the conversation between them and Hermione in his head again as he and Lee, who was now prattling on about abusive women and male rights, made their way up to the dorms. The twins wouldn't like it one bit, but it was for their own good.

* * *

><p>The next morning rolled around bringing with it the fourth practise session. Oliver took advantage of the fact that Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Harry usually turned up before Fred and George and divulged to them what he had found out.<p>

"You mean to tell us that they've been acting like a couple of sulky brats because they're tired?" started Angelina. She stopped and considered this. "Actually, it does make sense when you think about it."

Harry snorted. "I asked Percy to shed some light over dinner and he just said that 'They'd always been cocky little buggers' and not to worry about it. Ron wasn't much help either, he said and I quote 'Anything's possible when those two are involved, it's probably just their time of the month'."

The air abruptly became close as Harry was suddenly fixed with three glares that could've felled the basilisk. He cleared his throat and looked away. Oliver chose to turn a deaf ear to this statement and was about to carry on when the two redheads appeared.

"Good morning all," came the double greeting, as they came out through the wooden entrance to the pitch.

"Bloody hell-"

"-she's a bit chilly today," they remarked in their usual tandem, shivering slightly in the cold wind.

"That she is," admitted Wood. He would have to wait until after the first half of practise to put Hermione's plan into action, so for now they would have to carry on as normal. "Right, strategies of the day..."

As per usual the team released the balls and began practise, and as per usual Wood called time-out after a couple of hours. He sat down to eat with his team and waited until they'd finished before making his announcement.

"Right team, I've been thinking and I've decided that I want to enforce a new protocol," he began.

"_Here we go again,_" said Fred, rolling his eyes. George snorted.

Oliver ignored them and continued. "From now on after we stop to eat, there will be a forty minute optional nap-time..."

The redheads burst out into laughter at this. "Pffftt! Are you_ joshing_?" said a disbelieving Fred as an equally stunned George guffawed away.

"...Unless your name is Fred or George then it's _COMPULSORY,_" he said, effectively cutting off the twins, who he turned to look at with a resolute expression. The rest of the group nodded and grinned now in complete understanding.

The duo stopped laughing and gaped at him. In the silence, Filch was faintly audible screaming at first years for mucking up the halls, a sneeze could be heard coming from Hagrid's hut and the smashing of glass indicated that a bird had just flew into one of the greenhouses. "…WHAT?"

"You heard me. You're also the reason that I decided to do this. As it seems to've escaped your notice I'll explain. You two have been getting extremely rude and cranky around the same time every day and I now know why; you're staying up late every night which is making you tired and irritable during midmorning. As Captain it's my job to make sure my team trains to the best of its ability and if that means doing this then _so be it_. If we're going to take on the Slytherins we're going to have to _work_ as a team, and when the pair of you are in one of these moods,_ that_ isn't happening. So, if you're finished eatin-"

"NOW WAIT JUST A BLUDGER BEATIN' SECOND," enunciated George, staring wide-eyed at the Keeper he'd just interrupted as if he'd just announced that they'd be wearing bright pink robes from now on.

"What do you mean _COMPULSORY_?" carried on Fred with an identical expression.

"It means you don't have a choic-"

"WE _KNOW_ WHAT IT MEANS," they cut-off Wood, flustered.

"We aren't a couple of toddlers who nee-"

"I'm NOT going to argue with you," Wood stated in an authoritive tone, silencing Fred. "You two are the best Beaters I've ever had and I'm not going to let you squander those skills just because you're not getting enough sleep. You two _are_ going to go inside and take a nap, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

"We appreciate the compliment Oliver-"

"-but I think we're old enough to decide for ourselves," came the reply, complete with brows furrowed and legs crossed inwards defiantly.

"Guess we'll just have to do this the hard way then," threatened the Captain, arms akimbo.

The twins were just about to formulate a comeback but the Keeper had already stormed over to them, grabbed an ear in each hand and pulled hard upwards.

"OW! Let go!" cried Fred.

"Shove off, Wood!" joined George.

Oliver was having none of it. Once they were on their feet he began frog marching them across the pitch, much to the amusement of the rest of the team.

The pair, in their vexed state, began firing out choice words that the Captain was sure would've had Mrs Weasley reaching for her wooden spoon had she been there; he tightened his grip on the reddening lobes in displeasure, rousing a couple of satisfying whimpers. They were almost to the changing rooms when the twins decided once and for all that they definitely weren't going to go quietly.

"Sorry about this Ol-"

"-but we feel it is just!"

The duo, then in perfect unison, stamped down hard on both of Wood's feet.

"GAHH!" came the strangled yelp from Oliver who made the categorical error of releasing his quarry just long enough for them to escape. They immediately ran towards the side of the pitch where their brooms leant, mounted them and grabbed their bats before the rest of the team could catch them up.

"Those little toe-rags," mumbled Wood stumbling back onto the pitch and wincing with every step; Fred and George had risen about ten feet from the ground taking an aerial advantage.

"Don't worry Cap'n," said Harry mounting his own broom, "they won't get away with that one."

"No they won't," agreed Angelina, as she and the girls grabbed theirs.

Oliver grinned at the camaraderie and followed their suit, walking forward slightly to rest twenty feet in front of the floating twins who now, he noted, had the decency to look sheepish and perhaps a tad guilty.

"Now look here Wood-"

"-you're going a bit over the top with this."

If Oliver didn't have the raging urge to wring their necks he would've laughed at the situation. They'd gone from a bog-standard Quidditch practise session, along a nap related tangent and onto a very _odd_ game of cat and mouse; considering the cat had twenty legs, five heads and glasses, whilst the eight legged, two headed ginger mouse was flying.

Oliver ignored their statement. "If you come down, _right now,_ I'll forget you ever stamped on my feet and we'll try this again. Remain there however and, not only will I come and get you, there'll be consequences when I do."

The twins made the faintest squirm at the threat, but schooled themselves quickly and resolutely stood their air-ground.

Oliver narrowed his eyes, "fine." He slung a leg over his Cleansweep Seven and shot towards them faster than Snape confronted with shampoo.

Fred and George on Cleansweep Fives, just managed to scramble out of the way with an "Eek!" before shooting off in different directions; their plan being to simply evade capture long enough for Wood to concede that he wasn't going to get them and call off the attack. Angelina and Harry went after George, whilst Wood, Alicia and Katie blitzed after Fred.

Oliver started to feel a pang of empathy for Mrs Weasley who, he mused, must've done this hundreds of times before when the two were growing up. The only difference this time was that it wasn't going to become a regular occurrence; they were going to take a nap everyday even if he had to tie them down.

The twins dived, weaved and loop-de-looped in an attempt to throw off their pursuers, even going as far as to halt suddenly and jump up off their brooms, making the closest assailant accidentally fly through the gap before they landed again and changed direction. Wood was becoming impressed with their flying prowess and the fact that on Cleansweep Fives, they were holding their own against his Cleansweep Seven and Harry's Firebolt; it was almost embarrassing.

After about ten minutes of this however, they appeared to be running out of steam. The other team members had begun using the tactic of surrounding the boys and then diving towards them from all directions making them dodge and swerve almost constantly; it was tiring them out. Fred and George eventually teamed up once more and flew side by side, and Wood saw his chance and sped up. He was about ten feet behind them and closing in, going for the kill, when_ it_ _happened_…

The twins had appeared to spot a Bludger coming vaguely towards them, they glanced at one another for a split second, before flying straight at it. They held their bats between them, raised them high, swerved around the Bludger just in time and hit it with a double back-swing sending it straight into the path of Oliver. Wood just had time to feel the object graze his cheek as he dodged with lightening reflexes worthy of the title of Keeper, before reaching out both hands and grabbing the robes of his prize.

The 'Bludger Backbeat', they had done it! No, it was more than that it was a 'Dopplebeater Bludger Backbeat', and they had _done_ it. These were the only thoughts gracing Wood's mind as he hauled the struggling twins down onto the ground; the rest of the team immediately landed and confiscated their brooms before they got any more ideas. Fred and George however were _done,_ they flopped onto the ground panting and gasping.

"You DID IT!" yelled Oliver in glee, oblivious to the now dumbfounded stares of his cohorts. "You bloody DID IT! Infact it was one better, it was a DOUBLE backbeat and it was _precise_, I _knew_ you had it in you!-"

All the twins could do was stare up in disbelief at the ranting Captain who had appeared to have temporarily forgotten his anger and the reason for tailing the two in the first place, and had started pacing around in circles rambling as he went.

"-straight into Flint's face, HA! Imagine that, bet that'd knock him off his high horse-"

"Wood."

"-or even at Montgomery or Warrington, their faces would be a picture alright! Most likely broken bu-"

"WOOD."

"-think twice about mocking Gryffindor again when they're all in St Mungo's!"

"OLIVER!" thundered Angelina, fixing a glare upon him that could curdle milk.

He stopped his monologue and swivelled around to look at her, finally realising he'd been waffling. "Ah, yes right, of course…" He cleared this throat sheepishly and fixed a stern look upon the worn out duo, when inside he was secretly still reeling and most of his anger had now dissipated.

"Congratulations, you managed to successfully outrun us for twenty minutes, a valiant effort if I do say so myself, but in vain I'm afraid. So, before we get you two tucked in, is there anything you'd like to say for throwing a tantrum, wasting precious practise time and nearly decapitating me with a Bludger?"

Fred and George turned slightly pink, lowered their heads and exhaled in defeat. "…Sorry Captain."

"Ahem?" came the outcry from the Chasers and Harry.

"…and everyone else," they muttered.

"Good boys," praised Oliver, who then walked over, cast featherweight charms upon the two, brazenly hoisted both brothers over his shoulders in a double fireman's lift and began carrying them towards the changing rooms.

Fred and George immediately made sounds of protest and bristled at the audacity of the Keeper, but they were fighting a losing battle. They soon went limp, forced to simply glare at the ground as exhaustion finally got to them at last. Oliver grinned triumphantly and they entered the boy's changing rooms where he was going to shortly conjure some sleeping bags. He considered letting them down now, but a little more mortification couldn't hurt, they'd earned it after all.

"Here we are. Now, as you two decided to be misbehave by stamping on my feet, starting a violent wild goose chase and generally ignoring me, there WILL be consequences just like I said..." They tensed and he paused deliberately to make them squirm. "…I'm going to write to your _mother,_" and he lowered them onto a bench, cancelling the charms upon them with a quick "_finite_."

Fred and George snapped to attention at once at the mention of their mum, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Oliver with faces as red as their hair.

"NO! You CAN'T!" they yelled aghast.

"Oh yes I can, and I will…unless…" He turned his back on them and trailed off intentionally.

When he turned back to look at them, they'd already sprung from the bench in a heartbeat to kneel on the floor in front of him, hands clasped together while they pleaded hysterically in their back and forth banter.

"PLEASE Wood we're really sorry!… We'll take the sodding naps…We will! Everyday…for as long as you want!...We promise we'll do what you say!... _Just don't write to her_!"

Oliver honestly didn't know what he loved more at that moment in time, the image of Hogwarts' notorious pranksters begging at his feet, his current feeling of rekindled hope for the upcoming game or the razor-sharp mind of Hermione Granger.

* * *

><p>The week had finally come to an end and the match against Slytherin was now only moments away. Wood and the rest of the Gryffindor team were currently stood inside the wooden cove that led to the packed and screaming stadium.<p>

Oliver couldn't've been happier with the progress made by his team over the course of their training. At last practise, his chasers Angelina, Alicia and Katie had managed to not only simply score, but also put the fear of God into him during one such time by flying at him full speed in a 'Hawkhead Formation' and - using his split second of fright - put the Quaffle right past him before he'd realised what they'd done.

Harry had also impressed him immensely by not only catching the Golden Snitch faster than usual, but in _ten seconds _after it'd been released! He would've gone over and hugged him if he hadn't schooled himself at the last minute, plus Fred and George had already beaten him to the punch, quite literally by punching him out of the way to get to the young man.

Ah yes, Fred and George. Suffice to say, the twins had improved astronomically since they'd started napping during practise, he couldn't believe how such a simple thing could give such a positive effect. They'd not only accomplished 'The Bludger Backbeat' now but _mastered _it, even going as far as to practise doing it as a pair more often than not, making it twice as deadly. He'd always said to himself that this move was going to be important somehow, he didn't really know _why_ he was so adamant for them to learn it, he'd just had the slightest feeling that they'd need it; he felt it in his gut.

"Gooood afternoon Hogwarts and welcome to the final match of the annual interhouse championship: Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor!" came the booming voice of Lee over the roar of the students. "We have less than five minutes 'til the game so don't you dare go anywhere! (COUGH) Unless-you're-a-Slytherin-then-feel-free-to-get-lost-"

"JORDAN!" scolded McGonagall.

They still had a few minutes left until they would face the music and Oliver took the opportunity to reminisce a while longer. He almost chuckled as he remembered the day the twins had thrown that almighty fit. It hadn't lasted long he recalled, the second Mrs Weasley came into play they had leapt into the conjured sleeping bags in the blink of an eye and had slept like babies, even batting him away when he'd tried to wake them up later. They'd indeed kept their promise and took their nap every day from then on as well, the constant looming threat of a howler from their mother having a lot to do with it Wood assumed, which had improved their moods dramatically at long last.

"Well, good luck everyone," came the apprehensive voice of Harry, "I hope we did enough."

"Worry not dear Harold," said Fred.

"We're on a roll! Nothing's gona stop us now," continued George.

"We have the best team talent can produce-"

"-a stadium full of fans screaming our names-"

"-and a Captain who doesn't know how to fail."

"We've got this one," they finished in unison with a wink at Wood.

"Damn right we do," came the Keeper's confident reply.

The thunderous roar from the pitch was almost deafening now, meaning a number of scenarios easily could've occurred. Either: It had finished filling up with eager students who were now cheering their favoured team's name, Hagrid had released a flock of Blast-ended Screwts upon the spectators or You-know-who himself had turned up and was now violently massacring the crowd, it was hard to tell when you had no visual aid.

"They're right Harry," said Angelina, "not only for obvious reasons but I think Flint's nervous. I saw him looking at the scores earlier today and he seemed pretty edgy. He _knows_ we have a shot."

"Flint can formulate an emotion _OTHER_ than _mad_?" said an alarmed George.

"Flint can _READ?_" mirrored Fred.

CRASH! The wooden hatch opened with a clatter signalling for the players to fly onto the pitch. The team just managed to mount their brooms and fly out into the blaze of sound and light as Lee introduced the rivals who'd flew in from the other side of the pitch.

"Aaaand here come the teams! In green we have the Slytherins; play as dirty as they look-"

"JORDAN I'm warning you!"

"-Sorry Professor, with their Captain Marcus Flint!" resounded Lee.

There was a chorus of boos that effectively drowned out any cheers made by the Slytherin house; the serpents scowled.

"Aaaand in red we have the powerhouse of GRYFFINDOR! Led by their, very handsome if I do say so, Captain Oliver Wood! And do I have some juicy secrets about him, one involving a broom servicing kit, a bottle of Firewhiskey and Charlie Weasley! Err, unfortunately I'm unable at the present time to divulge such mysteries, personally see me after for detail-OOMPH."

"You know, I've been planning on what my first move was gona be if we won the Quidditch Cup, and I think I've changed my mind now," Oliver said monotonously over the distinct sound of rustling and buzzing of feedback as McGonagall and Lee fought over the microphone.

"Yeah?" said the twins and Harry shakily, as they floated across from the sneering faces of the Slytherin team, who were eyeing Oliver with a new found look of awed astonishment.

"Well my first instinct was to shove it in Flint's face…"

There was bumping and scraping now as the mic was being dragged back and forth between the two, slowly eroding the commentator box.

"…then I changed my mind and wanted to fly around the stadium holding it above my head…"

A small friction fire had now broken out and Dumbledore's beard had been set alight.

"But now?" asked the team wearily.

"Now I think there's only one course of action..."

So many _Aguamenti_ charms had been fired at once that Professor Flitwick was forced to tread water, and a few unused 'Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-start, No-heat' Fireworks exploded out of Lee's pocket with startling ferocity.

"I _KNEW_ HE HAD SOME LEFT!" yelled George in outrage as rockets flew all over the place, one re-igniting the fire in Dumbledore's beard and one colliding directly with Oliver's left eye. Nevertheless the keeper spoke on without pause, a bruise forming.

"…I now want to make it the final resting place of Lee Jordan," he said, as Madame Hooch blew her whistle and the game was put on hold.

* * *

><p>That night it was quiet and calm, morose even, in some areas of the castle i.e. the Dungeons. The corridors were empty, the Great Hall was deserted and the Slytherin common room radiated hatred for about a 30 foot radius. Gryffindor tower on the other hand positively quivered with all the music, celebrations and, to everyone's initial amazement, dancing portraits. They had done it, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup and a party was now being thrown; the team could barely contain themselves.<p>

The twins had took it upon themselves to smuggle into the common room as much food, drink and students as they possibly could; it was getting to the point where one could barely move around without being stepped on or bashed into. Once the area had been filled to the rafters, they'd gone off to play a game of Butterbeer-Pong* with Harry and Lee - who was now sporting several bruises and scratches - using one of the portraits hanging outside the common room door as a table and the Golden Snitch as the ball.

The three Chasers, who were also in high spirits, were having a chug-off at the opposite end of the room with Butterbeer also, much to the delight of the surrounding crowd who began chanting and pumping their fists whilst they shouted the name of the girl they were backing.

Oliver however was not taking part in the festivities but rather standing in the middle of the room, still staring fixated at the golden cup clutched in his hands. This moment had been his dream ever since he'd become Captain, and today it'd come true. After all these years, _he'd_ finally _won_ the Cup…No, _they'd_ finally won the Cup and Oliver couldn't've been more proud of them.

He'd also been scarily right about 'The Bludger Backbeat', about three quarters of the way through the game after all the drama of the multiple fouls and penalties, Angelina had just scored to make the game 80-20 to Gryffindor and Malfoy and Harry were going after the Snitch. Flint was a short distance behind the twins in possession of the Quaffle and about to try for another score, when Fred and George had noticed this, performed a Double Bludger Backbeat and caught him square in the chest, winding him very nicely and making him drop the Quaffle; allowing Harry the sixty point lead he needed to catch the Snitch, which he had.

The team eventually reunited towards the end of the party, moving over to the Cup by stepping over inebriated students and ducking under party streamers which criss-crossed the room like a Cat's Cradle*.

"It's certainly a beaut, Wood. I hope we never have to give it back now that it's ours," remarked Katie Bell.

"Don't be daft, Kate," retorted George, who with Fred and Harry now came over to huddle around the trophy like the others.

Their game of Butterbeer-Pong had unfortunately been cut short due to the 'ball' sprouting its wings and deciding it wanted to whizz around the ceiling instead of partake.

"Ollie's been battling for this Cup for_ five years_."

"We've got a pretty good feeling that the new Captain-"

"-whoever he or she will be-"

"-will do everything in their power to keep it here as-"

"-should they _lose_ the cup-"

"-not only are they subject to the anger of the team-"

"-but they're also incurring the wrath of _HIM,_" they pointed at Wood. "That's incentive enough."

The girls had to agree. Oliver chuckled, in all the pandemonium he'd forgotten to announce who it would be that'd be succeeding him as Captain. He'd planned to do it after the match, but it seemed to've taken a backseat in the chaos of Gryffindor winning the championship. The decision hadn't been a difficult one at all.

"I completely forgot guys, I was meant to announce the new Captain after the game but now seems as good as any moment…" Oliver said.

The team held their breaths. The Snitch's fluttering wings, tipsy chatter and party music were the only things now breaking the silence; Fred and George were turning blue with lack of oxygen and gestured to him to hurry up before they passed out.

"Angelina," he announced with a smile. The team applauded the girl at once as she went over and gave him a hug; the twins let out tumultuous breaths in the background.

"Any particular reason?" she asked him.

"It was a no brainer really. You're passionate and hardworking, you never whinged or complained once at the mention of practise in bad conditions, and even when your heart wasn't in the game you still gave it 110%."

"Thank you Oliver," she beamed, blushing slightly.

"Plus I need someone in charge who can control the terrible twosome- ("HEY! We take offense to that!") -and you fit the bill," he concluded.

"I think a toast is in order," piped up Harry, going over to one of the tables to try and find a suitable beverage for them.

"Hold your horses there Potter-" shot Fred.

"-we have something far better than Butterbeer," said George coyly.

The group observed as the twins ran upstairs, shuffled about for a few minutes and came back down grasping an unopened bottle of 'Ogden's Old Firewhisky'.

"Where on _Earth_ did you get-"

"Tis a frivolous tale so unimportant and trifling-" began Fred, cutting off Angelina.

"-that we'd bore you to slumber after three sentences," finalised George.

"In other words you don't want us knowing as we might blag to the person it really belongs to," she said.

"Pretty much," they spoke as one, pouring the amber liquid into seven cups.

The group sighed yet accepted the drinks anyway, they had a mutual feeling that Mr Weasley was going to look in his drink's cupboard one day and notice a space that shouldn't've been there. They all raised their drinks and made a toast to the new Captain, as well as the old one, and claimed the seats in front of the still crackling fire to sip at the fiery liquor.

"I'm going to miss this place so much," Oliver mused aloud swilling his drink, "especially you lot, and the pitch, and Lee's excellent commentating…" He paused looking around slightly. "Where is Lee anyway?"

"Oh, he buggered off somewhere when the Snitch took flight and he saw us going over to you," said Fred.

"Probably scared you were gona go berserk again after his little slip-up on the mic…" George smiled.

"It wasn't a slip-up he said it deliberately…and I didn't go _berserk,_" stressed Wood.

"You tried to strangle him with his own dreadlocks," reasoned Harry, "you did go slightly mental."

Wood muttered into his cup and took another mouthful.

"…So as we're all pleasantly comfortable now and the violence of the day has hopefully passed-" began Fred.

"-perhaps Captain you can explain to us the infamous story of the beverage you're currently drinking-" George went on.

"-and how our elder brother comes into it," they said in unison, grinning like hyenas. "He mustn't've kept his _broomstick_ in good condition if you had to service it for hi-." BANG!

The last thing that went through the twin's minds before the armchairs in which they were sitting suddenly exploded without warning, is how many times they had roused such a murderous expression from the Keeper's face, how proud they felt that it was an expression reserved just for them and how much they realised they would miss it once he was gone.

_fin_

_**Try to find it in your heart not to 'Hit and run', please write a review and let me know what you thought.**  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>AN: 'The Dopplebeater Defence', 'The Bludger Backbeat', 'The Hawkhead formation' and 'The Sloth Grip Roll' are all canon Quidditch strategies from 'Quidditch Through the Ages'. The story about Oliver, Lee is referring to is my homage to the general tomfoolery and chaos that the blokes from sport's teams get up to when on nights out; no slash implied just drunken dares etc._

_*Butterbeer-Pong: wizarding version of the drinking game Beer-Pong_

_*A Cat's Cradle is __a children's game in which two players alternately __stretch__ a looped string over their fingers in such a way as to __produce __different __designs._


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